The Pharaoh of Egypt
by Mjus
Summary: Uh... I wrote this in the middle of the night while on sugar high. It's about the dying pharaoh giving his crown to his son. Very much NOT what you think R


I promise, never get me drunk or sugar high for you never knows what happens when no one is looking. This is what happens in the middle of the night after too much candy.

As soon as you have read I want you to tell me where you realized where it was wrong.

* * *

**The Pharaoh of Egypt**

It was a nice day, like many else in Egypt. A soft breeze caressed the land and offered some cool to the slaves working on the yet unfinished western parts of the great pharaoh's palace. The pharaoh himself was old and would soon pass on from his high age, but still he had high authority and ruled the people of his kingdom with stern justice. He was loved and hated for it. The noblemen hated him for not giving them all the power they desired, not even the council had full power. But the simple people adored and prised the pharaoh as the god they thought he was.

"Time is running out for me," the pharaoh said one evening as he watched the slaves pack up and leave for their homes in the area.

"Great one, do not speak of such," his most trusted advisor said, knowing full well what his king meant. "The boy is still too young to lose you."

The pharaoh turned sad eyes towards the other, somewhat smaller man and smiled sadly. "I can not choose when Osiris decides to come and get me," he said lowly. "But when I am gone I trust you to love my son as I do. I want you to be his mentor. The boy loves you after all."

The man looked around carefully to see if anyone was eavesdropping on them. Finding none he turned to his king and spoke very softly.

"Brother, I can promise you everything a single human can, but I can not promise you the boy will accept your orders. None of us can control emotions of another after all."

The pharaoh sighed deeply. "I know," he said with a troubled face that betrayed his high age. "But if I die before his fifteenth birthday he will have no choice. There are so many who seek the power of the crown."

"Too bad the boy is not one of them," the other said.

"Bad?" the pharaoh asked and turned knowing eyes at his younger brother. "I would prefer to call it luck. Had he desired the throne he could have killed me long ago."

"I said it before and I will say it again, my king: Do not speak of such."

The pharaoh smiled and shook his old head. "The boy knows to rule a country. Yet he is too young to protect everything in it the right way. His brain can not think in so many lines yet."

"I am working on that matter already, Great one. He is a good student indeed."

Once again the old king nodded and sighed. He knew how many enemies he had, and he feared their anger and suppressed rage would cost the life of his precious son.

* * *

"My prince," his uncle and tutor started in the morning as usual. But today he had a troubled look on his features. 

"Have something happened?" the twelve year old boy asked worriedly, his wide blue/grey eyes anxious.

"I talked to your father last night," the man started. He told the small one what had been decided, and the young boy hung his head even before the last words left his uncle's lips. "You have to understand. Your mother gave birth to you too late. His Greatness knew it all along he would not live through you."

"I wish I could have heard that from his own throat," the boy said darkly.

"My prince…"

"Can we… just start the lesson now?" the boy begged unsteadily and his uncle noticed the shimmer of a tear in his little nephew's eye. He had to obey his plea.

* * *

The old king had never before been so stubborn in his life, and his eagerness to keep his life was even more impressive. Though his eyes were almost blind and his ears had troubles picking up sounds his mind was still as clear as fifty years ago. He lived through the three years he had left as a ruler. 

"Father?" the soon-to-be fifteen year old boy said hesitatingly when he entered the pharaoh's chamber the day before his fifteenth birthday... the day he would be king.

"Come in, my boy. Are you troubled by something?"

"Only about your health, father," the boy said as he moved closer. His father sat in a comfortable chair filled with soft pillows for the old king's arching joints.

"There is no need to," the old man said. "I will leave the kingdom to you tomorrow noon. Then I can leave in peace." The old man waved at his boy and his son placed himself carefully in his father's lap.

"How can you be so calm?" the young one asked. "What if Anubis judge you hard? What if Set tricks you and feed the monster with your soul?"

The old man chuckled at his son's anxiousness. "My boy, to you who are so young death is something distant and foreign, but to me who have lived my life… the thought of death is very relaxing. I will sure not have all these problems with my stiff body, I will be able to see and hear clearly again. That sounds much better than the life I currently live."

"Please don't say so," his son said loudly. "I can not rule your kingdom alone."

"The kingdom is soon no longer mine," the pharaoh said softly. "I was lucky to be able to live this long. Sixty-five years for this old man… that is a long time to live."

The soon-to-be pharaoh sniffed slightly. "Do not cry, by son. There is no need to. When the time comes, you will understand," the old pharaoh said and patted his son's soft, white hair lovingly.

The prince nodded and left his father's embrace. He bowed deeply for his father, even if he doubted the other could see it in the dim light.

* * *

The ceremony had started at sunrise. The prince was brought to the river of Nile to bath and purify his body and soul in order to be accepted by the watching gods. Until he sat on the throne with the crown on his head he couldn't say a word and make no other sound but the one of his breathing. The servants dressed him in white and scarlet before they led him to the dining room where they would feed him. 

At noon sharp the fifteen year old prince-soon-pharaoh slowly walked through the throne room towards his father who stood waiting for him at the base of the steps.

"Today… I will leave the throne to my son," the old man announced loudly to the sea of people who had come to see the just and fair pharaoh step down from his throne. The crown left the old pharaoh's head by his own hands and he held the golden thing over the head of his kneeling son.

"Today… a new era is rising, when a new king enter the place as Pharaoh. May he rule the land as the all mighty gods' desire."

The high priests stepped forward and each of them gave their blessing from each of the mighty gods they represented, one of them being the prince's pretty, purple-eyed cousin.

"Ra gives you his blessing with liquid gold that will float over the kingdom as long as you sit on the throne, mighty one," the prince's cousin said and flashed a discreet smile.

As last the priests were done and the old pharaoh ended the ceremony with his last words.

"Welcome to your throne, you son of sun and moon, of earth and wind." He lowered the crown until it was placed on the young boy's head.

The prince slowly walked right past his father and sat on the throne. Malik, the high priest of Ra, called out the end of the ceremony.

"Bow your heads for the mighty Pharaoh Bakura!"

* * *

Well, if anybody would like to continue this, just email me and I'll give send you the document.


End file.
